芥川龍之介/Ryunosuke Akutagawa
芥川龍之介（Ryunosuke Akutagawa 1892—1927），日本小說家，素有“鬼才”之稱。他閱讀的書籍涉獵極廣，中小學時代就喜讀閱讀江戶時代的文學作品，還喜歡閱讀《西遊記》和《水滸傳》等。芥川早期發表了短篇小說《羅生門》（1915）、《鼻子》（1916）、《芋粥》（1916）、《手帕》（1916）由此確立了他在寫作領域的地位。自1917年至1923年，龍之介所寫的短篇小說先後6次結集出版，分別以《羅生門》、《煙草與魔鬼》、《傀儡師》、《影燈籠》、《夜來花》和《春服》為書名，這些優秀作品讓芥川龍之介成為日本文壇的“鬼才”大師。
It was a chilly evening. A servant of a samurai stood under the Rashomon, waiting for a break in the rain.
No one else was under the wide gate. On the thick column, its crimson lacquer rubbed off here and there, perched a cricket. Since the Rashomon stands on Sujaku Avenue, a few other people at least, in sedge hat or noblemans headgear, might have been expected to be waiting there for a break in the rain storm. But no one was near except this man.
For the past few years the city of Kyoto had been visited by a series of calamities, earthquakes, whirlwinds, and fires, and Kyoto had been greatly devastated. Old chronicles say that broken pieces of Buddhist images and other Buddhist objects, with their lacquer, gold, or silver leaf worn off, were heaped up on roadsides to be sold as frewood. Such being the state of affairs in Kyoto, the repair of the Rashomon was out of the question. Taking advantage of the devastation, foxes and other wild aninals made their dens in the ruins of the gate, and thieves and robbers found a home there too. Eventually it became customary to bring unclaimed corpses to this gate and abandon them. After dark it was so ghostly that no one dared approach.
Flocks of crows flew in from somewhere. During the daytime these cawing birds circled round the ridgepole of the gate. When the sky overhead turned red in the afterlight of the departed sun, they looked like so many grains of sesame fung across the gate. But on that not a crow was to be seen, perhaps because of the lateness of the hour. Here and there the stone steps, beginning to crumble, and with rank grass growing in their crevices, were dotted with the white droppings of crows. The servant, in a worn blue kimono, sat on the seventh and highest step, vacantly watching the rain. His attention was drawn to a large pimple irritating his right cheek.
As has been said, the servant was waiting for a break in the rain. But he had no particular idea of what to do after the rain stopped. Ordinarily, of course, he would have returned to his masters house, but he had been discharged just before. The prosperity of the city of Kyoto had been rapidly declining, and he had been dismissed by his master, whom he had served many years, because of the effects of this decline. Thus, confned by the rain, he was at a loss to know where togo. And the weather had not a little to do with his depressed mood. The rain seemed unlikely to stop. He was lost in thoughts of how to make his living tomorrow, helpless incoherent thoughts protesting an inexorable fate. Aimlessly he had been listening to the pattering of the rain on the Sujaku Avenue.
The rain, enveloping the Rashomon, gathered strength and came down with a pelting sound that could be heard far away. Looking up, he saw a fat black cloud impale itself on the tips of the tiles jutting out from the roof of the gate.
He had little choice of means, whether fair or foul, because of his helpless circumstances. If he chose honest means, he would undoubtedly starve to death beside the wall or in the Sujaku gutter. He would be brought to this gate and thrown away like a stray dog. If he decided to steal……His mind, after making the same detour time and again, came fnally to the conclusion that he would be a thief. But doubts returned many times. Though determined that he had no choice, he was still unable to muster enough courage to justify the conclusion that he must become a thief.
After a loud ft of sneezing he got up slowly. The evening chill of Kyoto made him long for the warmth of a brazier. The wind in the evening dusk howled through the columns of the gate. The cricket which had been perched on the crimson-lacquered column was already gone.
Ducking his neck, he looked around the gate, and drew up the shoulders of the blue kimono which he wore over his yellow thin underwear. He decided to spend the night there, if he could find a secluded corner sheltered from wind and rain. He found a broad lacquered stairway leading to the tower over the gate. No one would be there, except the dead, if there were any. So, taking care that thesword at his side did not slip out of the scabbard, he set foot on the lowest step of the stairs.
A few seconds later, halfway up the stairs, he saw a movement above. Holding his breath and huddling cat-like in the middle of the broad stairs leading to the tower, he watched and waited. A light coming from the upstairs shone on his right cheek with the red, festering pimple visible under his stubby whiskers. He had expected only dead people inside the tower, but he had only gone up a few steps before he noticed a fre above, about which someone was moving. He saw a dull, yellow, fickering light which made the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling glow in a ghostly way. What sort of person would be making a light in the Rashomon……and in a storm?The unknown, the evil terrifed him.
As quietly as a lizard, the servant crept up to the top of the steep stairs. Crouching on all fours, and stretching his neck as far as possible, he timidly peeped into the tower.
As rumor had said, he found several corpses strewn carelessly about the foor. Since the glow of the light was feeble, he could not count the number. He could only see that some were naked and others clothed. Some of them were women, and all were lolling on the foor with their mouths open or their arms outstretched showing no more signs of life than so many clay dolls. One would doubt that they had ever been alive, so eternally silent they were. Their shoulders, breasts, and torsos stood out in the dim light；other parts vanished in shadow. The offensive smell of these decomposed corpses brought his hand to his nose.
The next moment his hand dropped and he stared. He caught sight of a ghoulish form bent over a corpse. It seemed to be an old woman, gaunt, gray-haired, and delirious in appearance. With a pinetorch in her right hand, she was peeping into the face of a corpse which had long black hair.
Seized more with horror than curiosity, he even forgot to breathe for a time. He felt the hair of his head and body stand on end. As he watched, terrifed, she wedged the torch between two foor boards and, laying hands on the heads of the corpse, began to pull out the long hairs one by one, as a monkey kills the lice of her young. The hair came out smoothly with the movement of her hands.
As the hair came out, fear faded from his heart, and his hatred toward the old woman mounted. It grew beyond hatred, becoming a consuming antipathy against all evil. At this instant if anyone had brought up the the question of whether he would starve to death or become a thief-the question which had occurred to him a little while ago-he would not have hesitated to choose death. His hatred toward evil fared up like the piece of pine wood which the old woman had stuck in the foor.
He did not know why she pulled out the hair of the dead. Accordingly, he did not know whether her case was to be put down as good or bad. But in his eyes, pulling out the hair of the dead in the Rashomon on this stormy night was an unpardonable crime. Of course it never entered his mind that a little while ago he had thought of becoming a thief.
Then, summoning strength into his legs, he rose from the stairs and strode, hand on sword, right in front of the old creature. The hag turned, terror in her eyes, and sprang up from the foor, trembling. For a small moment she paused, poised there, then lunged for the stairs with a shriek.
“Wretch！Where are you going?”he shouted, barring the way of the trembling hag who tried to scurry past him. Still she attempted toclaw her way by. He pushed her back to prevent her……they struggled, fell among the corpses, and grappled there. The issue was never in doubt. In a moment he had her by the arm, twisted it, and forced her down to the foor. Her arms were all skin and bones, and there was no more fesh on them than on the shanks of a chicken. No sooner was she on the floor than he drew his sword and thrust the silver-white blade before her very nose. She was silent. She trembled as if in a ft, and her eyes were open so wide that they were almost out of their sockets, and her breath come in hoarse gasps. The life of this wretch was his now. This thought cooled his boiling anger and brought a calm pride and satisfaction. He looked down at her, and said in a somewhat calmer voice：
“Look here, I‘m not an offcer of the High Police Commissioner. I’m a stranger who happened to pass by this gate. I won‘t bind you or do anything against you, but you must tell me what you’re doing up here.”
Then the old woman opened her eyes still wider, and gazed at his face intently with the sharp red eyes of a bird of prey. She moved her lips, which were wrinkled into her nose, as though she were chewing something. Then a panting sound like the cawing of a crow came from her throat：
“I pull the hair……I pull out the hair……to make a wig”
Her answer banished all unknown from their encounter and brought disappointment. Suddenly she was only a trembling old woman there at his feet. A ghoul no longer：only a hag who makes wigs from the hair of the dead-to sell, for scraps of food. A cold contempt seized him. Fear left his heart, and his former hatred entered. These feelings must have been sensed by the other. The old creature, still clutching the hair she had pulled off the corpse, mumbled outthese words in her harsh broken voice：
“Indeed, making wigs out of the hair of the dead may seem a great evil to you, but these that are here deserve no better. This woman, whose beautiful black hair I was pulling, used to sell cut and dried snake fesh at the guard barracks, saying that it was dried fsh. If she hadn‘t died of the plague, she’d be selling it now. The guards liked to buy from her, and used to say her fsh was tasty. What she did couldn‘t be wrong, because if she hadn’t, she would have starved to death. There was no other choice. If she knew I had to do this in order to live, she probably wouldnt care.”
He sheathed his sword, and, with his left hand on its hilt, he listened to her meditatively. His right hand touched the big pimple on his cheek. As he listened, a certain courage was born in his heart-the courage which he had not when he sat under the gate a little while ago. A strange power was driving him in the opposite direction of the courage which he had had when he seized the old woman. No longer did he wonder whether he should starve to death or become a thief. Starvation was so far from his mind that it was the last thing that would have entered it.
“Are you sure?”he asked in a mocking tone, when she fnished talking. He took his right hand from his pimple, and, bending forward, seized her by the neck and said sharply：
“Then it‘s right if I rob you. I’d starve if I didnt.”
He tore her clothes from her body and kicked her roughly down on the corpses as she struggled and tried to clutch his leg. Five steps, and he was at the top of the stairs. The yellow clothes he had wrested off were under his arm, and in a twinkling he had rushed down the steep stairs into the abyss of night. The thunder of his descending steps pounded in the hollow tower, and then it was quiet.
Shortly after that the hag raised up her body from the corpses. Grumbling and groaning, she crawled to the top stair by the still fickering torchlight, and through the gray hair which hung over her face, she peered down to the last stair in the torch light.
Beyond this was only darkness……unknowing and unknown.
那是一個寒冷的夜晚，一位武士的仆人站在羅生門下避雨。
這個寬敞的大門下隻站著一個人，除他以外，沒有別人。在朱漆斑駁的大圓柱上，蹲著一隻蟋蟀。羅生門正位於朱雀大街上，本該有不少戴女笠和烏軟帽的男女行人到這裏來避雨，可現在隻有他一個。
這些年來，京都接連遭受地震、台風、大火等幾次災難的襲擊，已經變得格外荒涼了。古時候留下來的記載裏說到，佛像、供品的碎片，凡是油漆、金箔、銀箔有破損的，都被堆在路邊當柴火賣。京都已經是這樣的情景了，所以像修理羅生門那樣的事一定不會有人來管。在如此蕭條的環境中，狐狸和其他動物便利用這樣千載難逢的機會開始趁機作亂，小偷和強盜也將這裏作為他們的藏身之處。最後，把無人認領的屍體扔到羅生門逐漸成了一種習慣。每逢太陽落山，這裏總是讓人感覺陰森恐怖，所以誰也不上這裏來了。
不知道從哪裏飛來了許多烏鴉。白天的時候，這些烏鴉在門柱上成群地盤旋尖叫。當夕陽西下的時候，這些黑黝黝的烏鴉漫天都是，好像天空撒滿了黑芝麻。它們是到羅生門的門樓上吃死人肉的——因為今天已經很晚了，所以一隻也沒有看到，但是在倒塌了的台階上，磚石縫裏長著雜草，還可以看到一些斑斑點點的白色鳥糞。這位仆人穿著洗舊了的藍色和服，一屁股坐在第七級——最高一級的台階上，神情茫然地看著雨。他的注意力全部集中在他右臉上的那個膿包上。
就像開始說的那樣，這位仆人在這裏等著雨停了下來。可是雨停之後，他卻不知道該幹什麽了。照理說應當回主人家去，主人卻已經在四五天前把他辭退了。因為當時的京都一片蕭條，現在，這位仆人被他侍奉多年的主人辭退，也是大蕭條的環境下難以避免的。與其說是這位仆人在避雨，還不如說是無處可去。這樣的天氣對他的絕望情緒沒有任何幫助，這個雨看上去一時半會兒停不了。他深深陷入生活的苦惱之中，甚至不知道明天該怎麽辦。無助而雜亂的想法預示著他的悲慘命運。他毫無目的地聽著朱雀大街上的雨點聲。
大雨包圍著羅生門，雨點重重地落在地上的聲音從很遠的地方就能聽到。仆人抬頭看了看，一片烏雲正壓在羅生門裏唯一能看到的那片天空。
無論如何，在現在這樣的悲慘環境下，他沒有任何選擇的權利。如果他選擇一種誠實的辦法，那麽他會毫無疑問地餓死在牆邊或者朱雀大街的臭水溝裏。最終他的屍體會像狗一樣被扔到羅生門裏。如果他決定去偷——他反複思考，最後便跑到這裏。可是想來想去還是覺得“偷”不是辦法。即使他走投無路，還是沒有辦法鼓足勇氣去當一個小偷。
他打了一個大噴嚏後慢慢地站了起來。夜晚的京都異常寒冷，他很想去找個地方烤烤火。冷風毫不留情地從門柱間穿過。連在朱漆圓柱上停留的蟋蟀都不見蹤影了。
他穿著藍色和服，裏麵還穿了件黃色的薄內襯，縮著脖子，聳著肩膀，向門內四處張望，如果有那麽一個地方——既可以避風雨，又能安安靜靜地睡覺，那該多好。這時候，他發現了一條通往塔頂的寬大的、漆了朱漆的樓梯。除了死人外，樓上不會有任何人。他留意著腰間的刀，不讓它脫出鞘來，然後抬起穿草鞋的腳，跨上樓梯最下麵的一個台階。
過了一會兒，他走到了樓梯中間，看到一個影子在晃動。他像貓兒似的哈著腰，正屏住呼吸窺探著上麵的情況。從樓上透出來的火光，照在他的右臉上，隱約可見他的短胡子中長著的那個紅腫化膿的麵瘡。他原來以為上麵隻有死人，可是上了幾級台階後，看見還有人點著火。這個火光到處移動，模糊的黃色火光在屋頂掛滿蜘蛛網的天花板下像鬼影一樣地搖晃。什麽人會在羅生門裏點著燈呢？特別是在這樣一個風雨交加的夜裏？恐懼籠罩著他。
他像蜥蜴那樣躡手躡腳地爬著，好不容易才爬到這險陡的樓梯的最高一級。他盡量伏倒身體，伸長脖子，小心翼翼地朝塔頂望去。
正如傳聞所說的那樣，樓裏胡亂扔著幾具屍體。塔裏的光線非常微弱，所以看不出到底有多少具。能見到的，有赤身**的，有穿著衣服的。當然，有男也有女。這些屍體全都耷拉著腦袋、張著嘴躺在地上，還有一些伸著胳膊，看上去像泥人一樣，似乎從來沒有過生命的跡象。他們的肩膀、胸膛和軀體在昏暗的燈光裏僵硬著，其他的部位則消失在影子裏。屍體由於腐爛發出的惡臭向仆人撲麵而來，他不得不捂住了鼻子。
不一會兒，他放下捂住鼻子的手，開始仔細觀察這些屍體。突然，他在屍體的後麵發現了一個鬼影。好像是一個老婦人，她一頭白發麵色憔悴，神情恍惚，右手拿著一個鬆木火把，正盯著一具有著長長的黑色的屍體。
仆人帶著六分恐懼四分好奇的心理，一陣激動，在那一刻，他甚至連呼吸都忘記了。他覺得身上的汗毛和頭發全都豎了起來。老婦人把鬆木火把插在樓板上，兩手在那個屍體的腦袋上跟母猴替小猴捉虱子一樣，一根一根地拔著頭發。
看著頭發被一根根拔下來，仆人心中的恐懼也漸漸消失了，同時對這個老婦人的仇恨卻一點點加劇。仇恨讓他覺得這位老婦人是邪惡的化身。如果此時有人問他剛才在羅生門下選擇是餓死還是當小偷，他大概會毫不猶豫地選擇餓死。他的厭惡之心，正如老婦人插在樓板上的鬆木火把一樣，熊熊燃燒起來。
他不知道這位老婦人為什麽要拔死人的頭發，當然他不能判斷她的行為的善與惡。不過在他眼裏，在這樣大雨滂沱的夜裏，在羅生門拔死人的頭發，僅憑這一點，就是不可饒恕的罪惡。當然，他已經忘記剛才自己還打算做小偷。
仆人感到有一種力量召喚他的雙腿。他一個箭步跳上了樓板，一手抓住刀柄，大步走到老婦人的麵前。老婦人轉過身，眼裏充滿了恐懼，戰栗著從樓板上彈了起來。過了一會兒，她平靜下來了，接著尖叫著跑向樓梯。
“嘿！你要去哪裏？”仆人擋住了在屍體間跌跌撞撞慌忙逃走的老婦人，並大聲吆喝著。老婦人還想把他推開，趕快逃跑，可是仆人阻擋她的道路，一把將她拉了回來，兩人便在屍堆裏扭結起來。勝負當然毋庸置疑，仆人不一會兒就扭住老婦人的胳膊，並把她按倒在地。老婦人的胳膊瘦得隻剩下皮包骨頭，就像雞腳一樣。仆人拔出他的刀，直直地頂在老婦人的鼻子前，而她一句話也不說。她兩手發抖，氣喘籲籲地聳動著雙肩，睜大眼睛，眼珠子幾乎從眼眶裏蹦出來，像啞巴似的沉默著。仆人意識到老婦人的死活已經操縱在自己的手上，剛才火一般的怒氣漸漸平息了，他隻想弄明白究竟是怎麽一回事。他低頭看著老婦人，放緩口氣說：
“你聽著，我不是巡捕廳的差人，而是經過羅生門的行路人，不會拿繩子捆你的。你隻要告訴我，你為什麽這個時候在塔上，到底在幹什麽？”
這時，老婦人的眼睛睜得更大，眼眶紅爛，眼光像肉食鳥那樣矍鑠，盯著仆人的臉，然後蠕動著發皺的同鼻子擠在一起的嘴，像吃東西似的，還牽動了細脖子的喉尖，從喉頭發出了烏鴉似的嗓音，她喘著氣，聲音傳到仆人的耳朵裏：
“我拔他們的頭發……是為了做假發用。”
聽到這樣的回答，仆人覺得非常意外，也有些失望，剛才的怒氣與冷酷的輕蔑一起湧上了心頭。老婦人看出他的失望。她的手裏還捏著一把剛拔下的死人頭發，又動著蛤蟆似的嘴巴，用沙啞的聲音斷斷續續地說道：
“的確，對您而言，拔死人頭發是不對的，不過這裏的死人，活著的時候也都這麽幹。我所拔的這個女人，活著時把蛇肉切成一段一段的，曬幹了當幹魚拿到軍營去賣。要不是害瘟病死了，她這會兒還在賣。她賣的幹魚味道很鮮，軍營的人買去做菜還必不可少。她那麽幹也不壞，否則，就得餓死，反正是沒有辦法。我跟她一樣，迫不得已，她大概會原諒我的。”
仆人若有所思地聽著，把刀插進鞘裏，左手按著刀柄，右手摸摸臉上的腫瘡。逐漸地，他鼓起了勇氣。這是他剛才在門下所缺乏的勇氣，也不同於剛才上樓逮老婦人的勇氣。他不再為餓死還是當小偷的問題煩惱，現在他已經把餓死的念頭完全拋之腦後了。
“你確定？”老婦人的話剛說完，他譏笑地說了一聲。於是，他下定決心，立刻跨前一步，右手也不再摸臉上的膿包了，抓住老婦人的衣領，狠狠地說：
“那麽，我搶劫你，你也不要怪我，否則，我也要餓死。”
他一下子剝下了老婦人身上的衣服，一腳把她踢到屍體上，隻跨了五大步便到了樓梯口，腋下還夾著剝下的黃色衣服，一溜煙地走下樓梯，消失在夜色之中。
沒過一會兒，老婦人光著身子從屍堆裏爬了起來，嘴裏嘟嘟囔囔的，借著還在燃燒的火把的光，爬到樓梯口，然後披散著短短的白發，向樓梯下麵張望，外邊是一片沉沉的黑夜。
除了無盡的黑夜……無人知曉。
W詞匯筆記
abandon[?b?nd?n]v.放棄，拋棄；離棄，丟棄；使屈從；停止進行，終止
例 He claimed that his parents had abandoned him.
他聲稱父母遺棄了他。
incoherent[，?nk??h??r?nt]adj.思想不連貫的，語無倫次的；支離破碎的；夾七夾八
例 The man was almost incoherent with fear.
那個人嚇得幾乎語無倫次了。
halfway[‘h?f’we?]adv.半途；不徹底地；幾乎；快要
例 He was halfway up the ladder.
他正爬到梯子一半。
trembling[tr?mbl??]adj.發抖的
例 Gil was white and trembling with anger.
吉爾臉色發白，氣得直發抖。
S小試身手
每逢太陽落山，這裏總是讓人感覺陰森恐怖，所以誰也不上這裏來了。
譯________________________________________
無論如何，在現在這樣的悲慘環境下，他沒有任何選擇的權利。
譯________________________________________
他覺得身上的汗毛和頭發全都豎了起來。
譯________________________________________
P短語家族
On the thick column, its crimson lacquer rubbed off here and there, perched a cricket.
rub off：（使）摩擦掉；（使）減色
造________________________________________
Old chronicles say that broken pieces of Buddhist images and other Buddhist objects, with their lacquer, gold, or silver leaf worn off, were heaped up on roadsides to be sold as firewood.
heap up：堆積[大量積累]（某物）；促使（不好的事情）發生；堆疊
造________________________________________